Two Faced
by NixiexGrey
Summary: When a certain agent is assigned her first mission to find out the intention of a possible crime boss, she's willing to do anything to find out what she needs to in order to follow through with her part. Including enrollment to an all-boys school.
1. Viola and Cesario

**I drew inspiration for this story from a particular conversation I had with my mom on my decision to grow my hair out to donate to the American Cancer Society to make real-hair wigs for cancer patients who had lost their hair due to chemotherapy. At first my mom wasn't all for it because she believed that after the haircut, I would regret the decision because I won't like the way I look. But I convinced her that I was doing this because I felt that I had to and explained myself to her, so now she's totally for it and now I'm psyched :) And the haircut idea really stuck with me, so I ended up thinking what would happen if a certain TMI character had to cut her hair for a particular reason? One thing led to the next and before I knew it, I had this!**

**So I hope you all enjoy it, I'm not quite sure what I want to do with this story just yet, but it has potential! Happy Thanksgiving weekend you guys :) I know I had an awesome one!**

****Foresight: I had this scene also in my mind after establishing the reason why she was cutting her hair, so I included a little "preview". You can thank me in the reviews ;)**

_Song:_

_The Dog Days Are Over-Florence And The Machine (It was playing at the time of inspiration)_

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* * *

**

_Snip, snip!_

She had always dreaded getting haircuts since she could remember; from the way the cold metal blades sent shivers down her spine to the inevitable lighter feeling she experienced after losing what felt like pounds of hair on her head. Nothing about haircuts excited her, even when her friends told her they preferred her hair to be shorter so they could see her face clearer.

To her, haircuts were cruel and unusual punishment to something she spent years attempting to grow out with nurture and concern. Wincing now, she recalled her first ever haircut: she was only five years old when the classroom bully in her preschool decided it would be hilarious to put putty in her hair. The torturous humiliation that ensued shortly after left a brutal scar on her for life.

Shaking off her old childhood fear that was starting to get the better of her, she put on her game face and with a shaky hand, grabbed a fistful of hair. She took a steadying breath and focused on keeping her eyes open when the steel blades joined together in one quick flick of the finger. As the blades came to a close, she struggled to keep her vision from blurring as she watched the beautiful locks float to the ground to join the massive pile.

_Don't chicken out now_, she chided herself. _You've come this far already. There is no turning back. You've crossed the point of no return._ With a sigh, she ran her hand through her newly butchered hair and stared at her reflection. She looked…the same, she supposed. Her eyes looked bigger, brighter even, and her ears looked massive since they had no hair to hide behind…

Wiping a tear from her eye, she silently mourned her loss as she bent down and scooped up the remains into a plastic bag. Once all the strands were zipped up, she put the bag into the secret compartment of her luggage and locked it. She peeled off her shirt and shook it off above the toilet to make sure any extra strands would be flushed down. All the while, she forced herself to ignore the blatant different reflection in the mirror above the sink that stared back at her.

"This better be worth it," she grumbled as she tugged the shirt back over her head. Turning back to face the mirror once last time before going to bed, she turned on her side and forced her eyes to focus on the last obvious difference she had yet to get used to: the flat uppermost region where two bumps once were. Her hair she could deal with, but the suffocating binding was an entirely different story. Simply sighing was made difficult thanks to the gauze wrapping and she silently prayed as she did every night the week after getting the assignment that she could pull this off easily. Getting a sex change was easy, but faking to be a boy to fit into an all-boys school? Now _that_ was the hard part.

* * *

****Foresight:**

_She paled. "I don't really want to play anymore…"_

_All the boys turned their heads to look at her and she felt her cheeks flare up as she took in their bemused expressions. "I, uh, um…"_

"_Is it because you're on skins?" he asked. Of course he would, she figured. He was her target after all, her reason of being there in the first place. He was a natural-born leader–that much she knew even before she "met" him officially. And his cocky demeanor was the one that gave it away. Even now, that simple question was loaded with sarcasm. It was disgusting, really._

"_I prefer to keep my shirt on," she mumbled to her feet. By the Angel, after all this time of preparation for the mission and she hadn't seen this coming? She was supposed to be the best of the best, and here she was, in a situation even a newbie could easily get out of. How embarrassing._

"_You don't have to be self-conscious," the other boy––Alec––spoke up. "I mean, you have a-uh…well, it's not like you're fa–"_

"_I'll spare you the embarrassment," he said with a roll of his eyes as Alec bit his tongue. "You can go on shirts if it makes you feel better about your insecurities."_


	2. Orsino and Olivia

**Just a maybe idea I'm putting out here: this story is generally new and my "free time" is shortening as the school year goes on, so I'm thinking that the updates will be shorter but maybe more frequent? I don't know how I'm going to manage this all, but please try to bear with me! To all my supporters, you guys are AWESOME beyond anything :) Seriously, what would I do without your encouraging words?**

_Songs:_

_Catch Me-Demi Lovato (I don't know why...but this song inspired this chapter? Hmm...I wonder why...)_

_

* * *

_

"…And I swear, she was _snoring his name_ and–"

"No fucking way man! I'm calling BS on that one!"

"Well, what do you think, Jace?"

Jace was busy staring off into space during breakfast, his appetite long gone––and not because of the disturbing story that Sebastian was telling. He was with her a few minutes ago up in his room, watching as the sunlight played on her skin peacefully until she woke up. Then she had snapped at him for whatever reason and stormed off, narrowly evading Warden Lightingale, who did his daily dorm check-up routine at least six times a day.

It wasn't the abruptness of her anger that startled him––he was used to that by now since he had experience in that field––but the words that she had spewed at him: "I can't believe that after all this time, _you still don't know!_" What was it that he didn't know? She had to be the forty-ish something girl he had brought to his dorm and the fifth serious relationship he had (serious meaning "brought back to his dorm more than once"). That left him somewhat more enabled than most guys in the field of women…right? So what did she mean by "you still don't know"?

And as of now, he was nowhere near as close to decoding her vague outburst as he was the moment she screamed it at him and it frustrated him beyond belief. "What do I think about you being a liar and an insecure creep? I agree on that one––sorry Sebastian."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes and Jace reveled in the look of unadulterated rage with a silver lining of humiliation in his expression while the others roared in laughter.

"Funny, Herondale," Sebastian said calmly, slowly regaining composure. "Though I'm sure you're one to speak seeing as it was your femme fatale that I happen to run into early this morning."

Jace felt his blood run cold but didn't dare say a thing to betray his emotions. So Sebastian saw _her_ of all people this morning, did he? Jace didn't show it, but this small fact unnerved him , especially because she had a tendency to pour her heart out to anyone who bothered to listen. And when it came to Jace, Sebastian was more than willing to listen. To call her his "femme fatale" was very appropriate in this case, indeed.

"Are you sure that _she_ ran into _you_ and not the other way around?" Alec sneered, his chair pushed back as he stood up.

"Boys," Warden Kelly barked from the corner of the dining hall, his hawk-like gaze fixed on their table permanently. "Do we have a problem here?"

Jace fixed his look to a notch above boredom as he shifted it to the Warden's gaze and tossed him a lazy smile. "Not at all, sir. Although, Sebastian seems to be suffering from amnesia seeing as he believes that we actually _care_ about his childish whining."

The Warden didn't even bother suppressing his smirk as he glanced at a beet-red Sebastian. "This true, Verlac?"

Sebastian fixed his murderous glare at Jace––the only thing about him that portrayed any emotion at all––as he replied, "Yes, sir. I also seem to have forgotten how much of a complete tool Jace–"

"Language, Verlac," Warden Kelly growled. "Now go sit your fanny somewhere else before I have to walk over there and _make you_."

"As if you could," Sebastian scoffed under his breath as he hitched his backpack up higher on his shoulder before turning about face and walking away.

"I wonder what his problem is," Alec snorted before shoveling another spoonful of cereal in his mouth.

"I think I already know," Jace answered as he shook his head in attempt to both physically and mentally clear Sebastian from his mind.

* * *

First days of school were almost intimidating for her, it seemed. But now, sitting in the back of a limo instead the back of a yellow bus with her mentor beside her, she felt like a kindergartener about to be kicked to the curb of the cruel reality that was the real world.

"You're nervous," Magnus said softly as he took her hand in his. She glanced at him from her periphery and nodded, knowing that even though she shouldn't, she always considered him her almost-brother. Jonathan, her real-life brother, didn't actually know they were siblings––she was taken at the hospital after she was born so that her mother and brother were convinced she had died after birth. And the bittersweet ironic fact was that he attended Viktor's Academy––the school she was now enrolled in. It all just added up to make one big happy cake didn't it?

"Is it wrong to admit that I am?" she mumbled, her voice lost to her ears over the noise of her pounding heart.

"To me, no," Magnus chuckled. "But to anyone else, yes. You're a top ranking agent for your age class all across these wonderful fifty states, my dear, if you need any reminder. You passed your Standardized Agency Assessment Tests with flying colors and––"

"Just because I passed the SAATs and can do pretty cool stuff doesn't mean I can't get nervous," she argued, earning herself an inquiring eyebrow from Magnus. "I'm just…this is my _first_ out-of-academic range mission. If I screw up…"

"…Which you won't," he chimed in.

She gave him a hard look. "There's no 'oh, tough luck later kid, maybe next time' warning at the end. I could end up dead or worse!"

"There's something worse than death?" Magnus questioned, earning himself another cold look from her. "Okay, I get your point, dear, I really do. But you _won't_ mess up because I know who you are and what you're capable of. And you should, too."

With those comforting words as his final message, the limo crawled to a stop. She glanced up at him with pleading eyes, which caused him to roll his own eyes. "Don't give me that look, agent. It's about time you man up––or woman up, whichever you prefer––and get to your job. Or else I'm going to revoke your license."

That got her attention; as soon as the trunk popped open, she opened her door and tossed Magnus a "goodbye" over her shoulder before running around the back of the limo to claim her things. Hoisting her duffle bag over her shoulder, she looked up to face the grand edifice before her.

Viktor's Academy for Young Men was one of the most prestigious academies in the entire country, its rival being Raziel Academy––her old school. Both schools had legacies that could be traced back to the dawn of time that entitled both to bragging rights; so-and-so became the President while what's-her-face opened up her own business and has held the title of the richest woman in the world for five years running now. But the rivalry wasn't why she dreaded her first assignment; it was the fact that she was the daughter of the Headmaster of Raziel while her target was the son of the Headmaster of Viktor's. It only made sense from there that she would be selected as a legacy to be in charge of the other's downfall, especially when lives could be at stake if no one in her agency took action.

In her defense, the mission was fairly simple––all she had to do was get in, find evidence to confirm the rumors and get out before she would be discovered. So it wasn't like if she failed, there would be _serious_ consequences. Her father made sure her tracks would be covered six feet underground, never to be unearthed. The nerves she had were probably just left over excitement that had yet to leave her body from last night's party that her best friend had thrown her.

_Stop it,_ she told herself. _You need to focus on the mission at hand._ Closing her eyes, she inhaled the crisp November air and opened her eyes again to watch her breath leave in a wispy cloud before them. "Hi, my name is Christopher Wayland," she rehearsed as she climbed the magnificent white marble steps, a hand on the cold gold railing. "And I hope to God no one will bite my head off."

* * *

Jace couldn't contain his boredom during his fifth hour gym class. Warden Kelly was in charge officially, but since the bastard was lazy as ever and Jace was his "teacher's pet", Jace taught the class whatever way he chose to. Today he decided to show the boys how to wrestle and as he watched some of the non-athletic types wriggle on the mats together, he made a mental note to never teach wrestling ever again.

"Verlac," Jace hollered from the other side of the gym. He smirked when the familiar head of dark hair perked up and watched as the head bobbed around until the boy stood before him.

"Herondale," Sebastian sneered as he spat into the bucket beside Jace. "What more could you want from me?"

"Well I already have your soul," he mused. "And your head on my mantel would be a lovely addition, but I need to show Raphael here how to properly get out of a headlock."

"Fantastic," Sebastian scoffed. "So would you rather I grab you from behind standing or lying down?"

Jace made a face. "I'd prefer you don't neglect to use certain words in order to avoid any innuendos. And standing up––just to answer your sick question."

With a final roll of his eyes, Sebastian walked around Jace and snaked his arms under his armpits to interlock them behind his head. "Now Raphael, pay close attention because I'm only going to do this three times to bother Verlac over here."

"Uh, Jace?" Raphael piped up, his hand raised with his finger pointed behind Jace.

"Not now, Raphael," Jace scolded. "I'm about to dem–" With a grunt, he reached behind him, grabbed two handfuls of Sebastian's shirt and squatted his knees before pulling Sebastian off his back and launching him in the air. "–onstrate one of my favorite ways to get a pest off your back."

A "holy _shi–_" came from behind Jace, which caused him to spin around and freeze in place. Now in front of him was a boy–short, sort of lanky with bright red hair like fire and green eyes like emeralds–that he had never seen before. And judging by the terrified expression on his face, he figured he almost hurt the poor kid on his first day of school.

"Haven't you gotten the memo?" Jace asked gravely. "You're not supposed to stand within ten feet of a god. For your own good and my own as well."

But if he figured intimidation was a good way to leave a first impression, he was disappointed. The boy didn't look unnerved in the slightest, and judging by the look on his face, he wasn't impressed either.

"I don't see a god anywhere," the boy remarked, "but thanks for the memo, I guess."

"So you must be blind then," Jace said cheerily. "Which would explain how you clearly missed seeing me and almost got hit in the face with a projectile subordinate."

"Herondale!" Warden Kelly bellowed as he made his way towards them, stepping over the writhing bodies on the way. "I see we have a new student here. Name?"

Jace scrutinized the boy as he sized up the warden before he spoke. "Christopher Wayland, sir."

"Sir," Warden repeated, a smile on his face. "I like you already, Wayland. I'm Warden Kelly––though, you can call me 'sir'––and I'm the head of the athletics department here at Viktor's Academy. Welcome."

"Thank you, sir," Christopher responded with an impassive look on his face. Jace kept his eyes on him even as the warden left, mixed feelings in his gut telling him something seemed…_off_. He didn't know what, but something about this boy didn't rub him the right way. And when Christopher shifted his gaze to him––green sizing up gold––Jace promised himself he would find out what before letting the boy get anywhere near him.


	3. Sebastian and Antonio

**Go updates! Haha! So a particular reader commented on how she noticed how the titles were a bit "funny" because she didn't understand the reason for them. Well, I'll give you a hint for those who don't know: think SHAKESPEARE! If you know Shakespeare and this famous play (okay, not as famous as 'Romeo & Juliet' but it's up there), then you'll have the benefit in this case. I know my characters don't particularly fill one character in this play I'm talking about, but they may take up qualities of multiple characters (which is why Jace would be Orsino in one case and be Sebastian in another). Just bear with me, okay?**

**Also: RATE AND REVIEW! PLEASE? I live off your comments :) I love it when my inbox explodes with a billion reviews that enlighten me with what you guys honestly think about my story (no mean comments though!)**

_Song:_

_God's Gonna Cut You Down-Johnny Cash (I felt this song was appropriate for Jace. Can you figure out why?)_

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* * *

_

As she padded out of the bathroom after making sure her roommate––a quiet boy whose name evaded her––was fast asleep for a quick shower, she couldn't help thinking that today was both harder and easier than she had expected. It was easier because boys weren't as observant as girls were when it came to noticing certain things, but gym class had changed that the moment she met her match–namely, Jace.

She had expected him to be completely full of himself and above that, an ass to anyone that he felt was inferior to him so it was no surprise that he referred to himself as a "god". But what she hadn't expected was her reaction to him; from the way that infuriating smirk on his face rivaled his sarcasm for attractiveness had her lured in by her ankles. She was fatally attracted to him and had to focus on her mission in order to restrain herself from tackling him on the spot.

"Idiot," she mumbled under her breath as climbed into bed. Pulling the sheets over her head, she turned to her side so that she was facing the doorway that was illuminated with the corridor light.

That's when she saw it; a flicker of shadow that interrupted the otherwise perfect beam of light that pooled onto the carpeted floor from underneath the door. She didn't know why, but she was drawn to the shadow. A nagging feeling told her to seize the opportunity bestowed on her, and she couldn't shake it. So after throwing a quick glance at her roommate, she lifted her shirt up, tightened the binding around her chest and silently slid out into the corridor.

Closing the door behind her, she realized that the source of light was coming from the metal sconce fixtures mounted on the walls. Upon closer inspection, she noted that the flame wasn't real, only a flickering electric bulb that gave off the same spooky vibe. Glancing around her to make sure all was clear, she tiptoed down the corridor the way the shadow went.

* * *

Jace couldn't sleep that night; there was too much going on in his mind, his thoughts revolving around her. Was it something that he had said or done that turned her off from him? She said that this time around she was ready, and she hadn't complained that night when they had finally done it. In fact, she had loved every aspect of it and made sure to let him know it. So what was it then?

Ignoring the extra gloves kept in the box mounted on the right wall of the doorway, he closed the door shut behind him. He didn't stop walking until he reached the punching bag suspended by a chain in the center of the room. Once there were a few feet between him and the bag, he charged towards it, spun around at the very last second and landed spinning kick in its midsection.

He let out a guttural roar, reveling in the high he got every time he had a physical release. Each punch, each kick was like taking hits of the most potent drug in the world that he was addicted to.

"Could you turn it down?" a voice interrupted his thoughts. Stunned beyond belief, he spun around and saw _him_ again. _What was his name again? Christopher Way…what?_ It didn't matter; he was standing there in the threshold, his hair disheveled an oversized t-shirt on and boxers as well as a look of irritation on his face. "Some of us are trying to sleep at this hour."

"So sorry," Jace smirked. "I didn't realize momma's boy needed all his eight hours so badly. But since you let me know, I'll put you into consideration every time I decide to make noise."

Jace anticipated a snarky response at the very least, but when Christopher took a deep breath and plastered a goofy smile on his face, he felt disappointed. "How awfully sweet of you."

"I do try," Jace said as he went back to throwing a few punches on the bag once more. He was fully aware that Christopher was hovering by the doorway and couldn't quell the unease he felt as he tried to ignore him. So without removing his eyes from his target before him, he called out: "Admiring the merchandise, are you?"

"Sure," Christopher laughed as he kicked off the threshold and sauntered up to Jace. Jace watched as the other boy walked to him and noticed that he had a strange gait that was sort of…graceful, in a way. _Weird_.

"If you call that terrible form 'merchandise'," Christopher finished as he came to a stop in front of him.

Jace narrowed his eyes at the boy and nodded towards the bag. "If you think you're so hot, then show me what you got."

Christopher hesitated for a second, which led Jace to believe that the boy was all talk and no action. But then the anxiety slipped away when she noticed the golden eyes were taunting him and Christopher found herself getting into her fighting stance before the punching bag. Without removing her eyes from his, she wound up for a roundhouse kick and landed the blow a few inches above her head on the bag with such force, it swung back and Jace had to catch it before it knocked him over.

Jace had to admit, he hadn't expected that much from a boy so lanky like Christopher; yeah, he shouldn't have been so surprised, but the boy looked like he had no muscle on his body. And how he managed to hit the bag so high up without hurting himself was a puzzle to him.

"I'm going to bed now," Christopher announced as he began to walk off. Looking over his shoulder, he made eye contact with Jace once more. Green met gold not for the first time, but unlike the other times, there was something in that glance that had two different, yet one similar reaction in both players; one was suspicious of the other while the other was conflicted, but both silently agreed that they were now tolerant with each other due to curiosity to know the other better––for different reasons, of course.

* * *

_A conversation on the phone:_

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

_-A pause-_

"Why are you calling me?"

"You sound excited to hear from me. Don't you–"

"Don't do this. Please. Just not…now. Later, in person."

_-Another pause-_

"Why? What's going on? Why can't we talk now?"

"Shh, we'll talk later, okay? I promise."

"Is Lady Margaret there again? You know I could always sweet–"

_-Click-_

Jace stared at the phone in his hand for a solid minute before opening the bathroom door to make sure Alec was asleep. Then, as quietly as he could manage, he slipped through the door and shut it behind him. But when he thought he was in the clear, his body already tucked into bed, he heard a grunt followed by, "You really have to work on being subtle."

"I apologize for your insomnia," he sighed as he rolled to face Alec; their bedroom was set up like every other bedroom in the dorm with the two beds separated with a nightstand both shared, two bureaus next to each other that each boy used along with a full length mirror beside the bathroom door.

"So whom were you talking to?" Alec inquired, which earned him Jace's back being turned to him. He sighed, "So I'm guessing you don't want to talk about it then?"

"When do I ever want to talk about anything?" Jace shot back, but even he knew that was a weak retort. "Clearly you need some rest since you're delusional. Goodnight, Alec."

"Goodnight stranger," Alec snorted as he turned to his other side, giving Jace his back as well. Jace waited until Alec stopped shifting before he turned to his other side, the guilt caused by shunning his only best friend away eating at him. He didn't mean to be rude to Alec, but sometimes he couldn't help it. It was a wonder that Alec, after all these years of attending the Academy together since kindergarten, managed to be the only person who still put up with him. Even Jace had to admit that was a feat of some sort since he sometimes drove himself crazy. If only he knew his secret…


	4. Author's Note DUN DUN DUUUNNN!

Hey there!

This is a quick little author's note just to inform all my "faithful fans" (the ones that I pretend exist, but don't really) that one of my best friend FanFictioners (is that even a word? Huh.) is back on this website but as a READER and not a writer (believe me when I say I'm a little sad because she wrote such AMAZING stories!). Her pen name? KisstheRain14! I missed this girl to death on here and I'm glad she's back on, even if it's just to write funny reviews on my story. So for anyone else out there who missed her (not nearly as much as I missed her though), I hope this bit of information has been beneficial to you :)

Sincerely,  
NixiexGrey

P.S. For anyone expecting a chapter, I apologize for getting your hopes up only to stomp all over your hope flowers. As a means of compensation, I'll surprise you all with an update!


	5. Antonio and Orsino

**I know this is a short update, I am fully aware of this, but I felt like dishing this one out early to make up for the AN I posted up, so here you go! Enjoy :)**

_Song:_

_Under Pressure by Queen (I figured it was an appropriate enough song to listen to while writing this chapter :D)_

* * *

Simon slowly drifted back into consciousness once again when he heard a soft grunt followed by a muttered profanity. Not even bothering to open his eyes, he groaned, "What did you break this time?"

When all he got was a stifling silence as a response, he turned on his side and opened his right eye since he was on his left side. "Dude, chill. I was only kidding."

Christopher, who had his back to him, turned slowly and Simon realized he was already wearing his button down shirt with his tie undone dangling around his neck. "How long have you been awake for?"

"Uh," Simon yawned as he ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe like, a second? I dunno, stop making me think this early."

Christopher cracked a smile and reached behind him before he threw something at Simon. Simon flailed his arms, desperate to get the white cloth off his face. But after he managed to detach the cloth off his face, he groaned when he realized it was his button down t-shirt.

"You're worse than my mother," he moaned as he collapsed back into bed with the shirt pulled over his face. "I'll be out of bed in fiiiii…"

"Unbelievable," Christopher snorted as she slid on her dress shoes. Standing up, she took in the scene before her and couldn't help but wonder if the novelty of this situation would have been worn off if she had grown up with a brother. Shaking her head, she picked up a water bottle and chucked it at the other boy to get him to wake up.

* * *

Since Viktor's Academy was a widely known prestigious all-boy school, it only lacked in size due to the expenses that had to be paid in order to even be considered eligible to apply. This didn't come as a shock, however, considering every inch of the building was made up of marble, gold and wood for the rafters, which lent it a Gothic architecture feel. Which, in Christopher's opinion, was a waste of expense, but it wasn't like she exactly had a choice.

But she couldn't complain; due to the small size of the school, her target was in a majority of her classes, which made her job much easier. Especially in Economics class since Warden Pangborn felt that alphabetical order arrangement was ludicrous, she had managed to snag the chair directly behind him. Sitting behind him, she took the opportunity to take mental notes of everything about him that she could possibly memorize, like how he was left-handed and would frequently shift positions in his chair whenever he tackled a new problem.

The only class that she wasn't too thrilled about was gym since it required physical contact-not that it was something she hated, only that it made her more self-conscious that he would somehow find out about her little act. One wrong brush-up against her skin could very well do her in-not that that added any unnecessary pressure on her.

Which was the exact reason why she dreaded the fact that the moment she walked into the gymnasium five minutes late, she saw half the boys were topless while the others still had their shirts on. And Jace happened to be one of the topless boys. She gulped audibly when he gave her a mischievous smile that betrayed the seemingly innocuous expression on his face.

"So kind of you to grace us with your presence, Wayland," Warden Kelly growled as Christopher jogged over to join the rest of the group. Jace couldn't help the smirk that plastered on his face the moment he saw the color leak out of Christopher's face. _So that was his weakness? Seeing guys topless?_

"Sorry sir," Christopher stammered. "I got lost on––"

"Yeah, yeah," Warden said with a dismissive wave. "Save it for someone who cares, maggot. Now take off your shirt, your playing skins on Herondale's team."

"Sir, I–" Christopher started, but was cut off when Jace moved to stand before him.

"Any complaints you take up with me," Jace grinned.

Christopher fixed his gaze to Jace's chest to avoid eye contact. "I can't play today, I-I…have, uh…"

All the boys turned their heads to look at her and she felt her cheeks flare up as she took in their bemused expressions.

"Is it because you're on skins?" he interrupted, that unnerving smirk on his face. _Of course he would_, she figured. It was in his nature to assert his dominance over any other weaker subordinate, especially since he was a natural-born leader––that much she knew even before she "met" him officially. And his cocky demeanor was the one that gave it away. Even now, that simple question was loaded with sarcasm. It was disgusting, really.

"I prefer to keep my shirt on," she mumbled to her feet. By the Angel, after all this time of preparation for the mission and she _hadn't seen this coming_? She was supposed to be the best of the best, and here she was, in a situation even a newbie could easily get out of. How embarrassing.

"You don't have to be self-conscious," Alec spoke up as he braved a step forward. But the moment Jace turned his icy glare to his best friend, Alec noticeably lost the momentum that had made him speak up in the first place. "I mean, you have a-uh…well, it's not like you're fat or––"

"I'll spare you the embarrassment," Jace interjected with a roll of his eyes as Alec bit his tongue. "You can go on shirts if it makes you feel better about your insecurities."

Christopher felt her cheeks flare up, this time in anger, and forced herself to remember that she was undercover and could not risk exposure to keep herself from attacking Jace right there and then. And the fact that the other boys at this point were roaring with laughter didn't quell the urge to properly introduce her fist to his face one bit.

_You're an agent, top-ranking in your graduating class, don't let your target get under your skin…_

But that wasn't helping at all, so she resorted to the next best thing: imagining his reaction to the beating she so desired to give him. He wouldn't see it coming; she was shorter than him and had less visible muscles, but she figured that with the advantage of an ambush, she could land maybe three or four crippling blows before he would even have the chance to fight back. Smiling on the outside, she simply ignored his glare as she took to the other side of the gym where the rest of her team was.


End file.
